rapped; there was no escaping this seizure.
Parson got away safely to the tea-room, and the sight of him dodging
about among the cakes and cups only added to the misery of the hapless
Telson.

"Who are you, my little dear?" said the lady, who was no other than Miss
Stringer herself.

Telson, fortunately for him, was ignorant of the fact--as ignorant,
indeed, as Miss Stringer was of the fact that the little dear she was
addressing was a Willoughbite.

"Telson, ma'am," said Telson, following Parson with longing eyes.

"Johnny?" said the lady.

"No--Augustus," replied the proud bearer of the name.

Miss Stringer surveyed him benevolently. He was a nice-looking boy, was
Telson--and the lady thought so too.

"And will you give me a kiss, Augustus dear?" she said, with her most
winning smile.

What could Augustus do? A hundred desperate alternatives darted through
his mind. He would bolt into the tea-room; he would shout for help; he
would show fight; he would-- But while he was making up his mind what he
would do, he found himself being kissed on the cheek in the most
barefaced manner, before everybody, by this extraordinary female; and,
more than that, being actually set down on the sofa beside her! He only
hoped Parson or Brown had not seen it.

Well for Miss Stringer she did not guess the wrath that boiled in the
bosom of her small companion!

"And do you live here, dear?" inquired she, pleased to have this
opportunity of studying the juvenile human nature in which she was so
much interested.

"No, I don't," said Telson, surlily; then, suddenly recollecting he was
in polite though disagreeable company, he added, "ma'am."

"And where do you go to school, pray?" inquired the spinster.

"Oh, Willoughby," replied Telson, who had gradually given up all hope of
tea, and was making up his mind to his fate.

Miss Stringer gave a little start at this piece of information, and was
on the point of betraying her identity, but she forbore. "After all,"
thought she, "he might be more constrained if I were to enlighten him on
that subject."

"So you go to Willoughby," she said, with interest. "And how do you
like it?"

"Oh, well enough," said Telson, relenting somewhat towards his companion
as she showed no further signs of kissing him. "Nice lot of fellows,
you know, on the whole."

"Indeed? Let me see, who is the head master?" inquired the lady.

"Oh, Paddy--that old boy there by the fire. And that's M